


ace high

by sharkfish



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel (Supernatural), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Dean Winchester, Coworkers - Freeform, Gambling, Las Vegas, M/M, Market Disruption, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 19:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkfish/pseuds/sharkfish
Summary: Cas takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like that before. I swear I’m not…”“Trying to disrespect my chastity?”





	ace high

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to [jemariel](http://jemariel.tumblr.com) for a lot of things

“There’s two beds, right?” Dean says. 

The chick at the front desk looks at the computer screen and winces in a way that lets Dean know it’s bad news. “We can bring a rollaway?” she says. 

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose and suppresses a groan, but Cas — goddamn never-ruffled Cas — says, “We’ll make it work, thank you.” 

While waiting for the keys, Dean fires off a text to Charlie. 

**Dean:** They fucked up the booking and we’re sharing a room 

**Charlie:** 😏  

**Dean:** Hilarious. 

**Charlie:** He doesn’t hate you and this is your chance!! 

Dean hopes he still has his job by the time this is over. 

 

The elevator is awkward and silent, Dean holding his breath against the alpha stink left behind by a previous occupant. Dean follows Cas and his rolling luggage (there’s something off with one of the wheels and it makes a  _ tick-tick-tick  _ sound as it rolls) down an endless hallway of dizzying carpet, and it takes three tries to get the door unlocked. 

The hotel room is nice enough for Dean to feel uncomfortable. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to what seem like lavish accommodations on the company card, but apparently that’s his life now. When he pulls the curtains, there’s a view of the Strip, the sun setting beyond the mountains. 

“It’s beautiful,” Cas says, just over Dean’s shoulder, and Dean startles so violently he nearly pulls the curtain rod to the floor. 

“Uh,” Dean says, taking a step back. “I guess — I’ll go check out the casino and stuff.” 

“I could join you,” Cas says. Dean doesn’t know Cas that well, but he thinks he catches a lilt of his voice at the end, like a hopeful question. 

“Yeah,” Dean says, too quickly. “Yeah, man, let’s go.” 

They walk by one of the bars immediately upon exiting the elevator and decide to have a drink before adventuring. “Jack and coke,” Dean says to the cute bartender and then, remembering he’ll be with Cas all evening without a buffer, “make it a double.” 

“Scotch, dry. Something from the top shelf.” Dean raises an eyebrow at Cas and he says, “What? We have a per diem.” 

“You ever been to Vegas before?” Dean says after the first sip (gulp) of his drink. He spent the whole plane ride pumping himself up to be polite but distant, to not force his company on Cas. But here they are. 

“I have not,” Cas says. “I’ve never actually gambled before.” 

“You know how to play poker?” 

“I don’t. Do you?” 

Dean downs the rest of the drink. “Time to learn.” 

 

**Charlie:** How’s your dreamy alpha? 

**Dean:** I taught him how to play poker and he’s wiping the floor with these idiots    
**Dean:** He’s not my anything 

Cas touches his mouth when he’s thinking, tapping his fingers against his lips. Cas’s fingers are long, pretty, better manicured than Dean’s, even when he’s away from the Impala long enough to fully scrub the engine grease from around his nails. Dean really hopes he doesn’t get caught staring. 

**Dean:** I have no idea what’s going on, we’re just hanging out 

**Charlie:** 😏

Cas looks over to give Dean a smile, and Dean flushes, hopes Cas can’t see it under the flashing casino lights. He can still remember the way his heart sunk when he overheard Cas talking to Meg about how much he dislikes Dean. 

Before that, Dean had been working up to asking Cas if he wanted to watch one of the million movies he hasn’t seen together some time. Order pizza, or whatever people do when they have no idea if the guy you have a crush on likes men  _ or  _ betas. Now he does his best to stay out of Cas’s way.

Cas wins another hand and Dean groans. There’s no way he’s never played before, but he spent the first several hands leaning over to murmur questions in Dean’s ear. His blockers are starting to wear off, and even among the cacophony of scents in the casino, Dean thinks he smells incredible. 

Cas collects his chips and says, “We should go. I need a shower before dinner.” 

The two of them. Just dinner between colleagues in a fancy restaurant and one of them might really dislike the other. Or maybe not, because Cas’s smile is coming easier after a second drink, no hesitation to aiming it at Dean. 

 

Dean has seen Cas in “business casual” often enough, but apparently it means something different to Cas when going to a nice restaurant versus a meeting with bigwigs. Dean just has the same three button-ups that really should be replaced, nothing that would make anyone’s heart stop. 

Cas, though. Disgustingly well-fitted navy slacks, V neck sweater over a collared shirt, polished brown oxfords. And he went light on the blockers, because even Dean’s relatively weak nose can scent him from across the table. 

In comparison, Dean’s dark only-slightly-faded jeans, cheap shirt, and boots are laughable. Cas looks  _ stylish.  _

There are no prices on the menu, which makes Dean wince upon opening it, even knowing he’s not paying himself. Their waitress is an omega who gives Cas a flirty smile, but he doesn’t seem to notice as they order drinks and an appetizer. 

“She likes you,” Dean says with a smirk once she’s walked away. 

True to Dean’s suspicion, Cas looks surprised. “Why?” 

_ “Why?”  _ Dean repeats. “Because you’re hot.” 

Cas opens his mouth, then shuts it again, and the part of Dean’s brain that’s not dumbed down by whiskey realizes he’s at dinner with a work colleague.  

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Dean says. 

“It’s all right,” Cas says, a little furrow between his eyebrows. “Thank you.” 

Dean awkwardly steers the conversation towards their agenda for the rest of the week, and then there’s food to talk about, and then they get in an argument about Asimov they’ve had before, back when Dean thought he had a chance with Cas. 

It almost feels like Cas likes him. It almost feels like a date, complete with sharing a dessert at the end. 

 

The bed thing is fine. Cas falls asleep quickly even while Dean lays there listening to his heartbeat across the gulf of white sheet between them. They’re separated or surrounded by other people until late the next day, and Dean passes out quick after too many beers and too many appetizers. More of the same the next day, except they both opt out of the late-evening networking to head back to the room without discussing it. 

Dean collapses, splayed out over most of the bed. He can smell Cas there in the sheets, even after a maid service. “If I hear ‘market disruption’ one more time, I’m going to punch someone.” 

Cas steps closer to the bed, looming over Dean as he starts to unbutton his shirt. Dean suddenly can’t breathe, at least until Cas says, “Market disruption.” 

Dean stares at him for a long moment, then grabs a pillow and hits him across the middle with it. Cas  _ oofs  _ and grabs the pillow out of Dean’s hands, even as he’s stumbling backwards and starting to laugh. Dean laughs along, until they’re both a little breathless, Cas holding the pillow to his chest. 

“Violence is unbecoming of you,” Cas says with a grin. 

“Yeah, well, jackassery is unbecoming of you.” Dean forces himself upright and rubs his eyes. “Room service?” 

“Order something for me,” Cas says. “I’m going to take a quick shower.” 

While Cas is in the bathroom, Dean changes so he can lay back against the pillows in sweatpants and an AC/DC shirt he won’t give up, despite a few (small, he tells himself) holes. 

Cas comes out with a towel around his waist, smelling like nothing but  _ alpha,  _ and it takes a herculean effort for Dean to pull his eyes away and focus on the tv instead. “Ordered a quinoa thing for us,” Dean says, flipping through a couple channels without seeing anything. 

“A  _ quinoa thing?”  _ Cas says.

Dean laughs, accidentally looks at Cas, and is a fucking creep for wondering what Cas tastes like. “Kidding. Cheeseburgers.” 

From the corner of Dean’s eye, he can see Cas digging through his suitcase. “Do I have time to shave?” 

“Yeah,” Dean says, his eyes burning holes through the tv screen. Somehow this is worse than the shower, imagining Cas turning his head this way and that in the mirror, exposing the vulnerable column of his throat. 

After an evening of sitting next to each other against the headboard, watching Fixer Upper and bumping elbows, Dean opens his thread with Charlie. 

**Dean:** Ok he might not hate me

**Charlie:** 😏 

 

Dean wakes up with Cas nuzzling into the crook of his neck from behind, his body tucked up close against Dean’s. He’s scent marking, and even though it’s just a stupid sleep thing, goosebumps rise over Dean’s arms. 

“Smell good,” Cas murmurs, sliding his hand over Dean’s hip and around his belly, his touch hot.

Dean should get himself out of his situation, but it’s been so long since he was in bed with someone, just being touched.  _ Cuddled,  _ whatever. He shifts backwards just the tiniest bit, to feel Cas even closer. Warmer. He wants to touch back. Wants to leave the imprint of teeth where he can barely leave a scent. 

“Uh,” Dean says. It comes out like a croak so he licks his lips and tries again. “Uh, good morning.” 

Cas jerks back, and Dean rolls onto his back to look at him. He’s white as a ghost, hands held out like already declaring surrender. “I — that was — extremely inappropriate —” 

“It’s cool,” Dean says. 

Cas takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve never done anything like that before. I swear I’m not…” 

“Trying to disrespect my chastity?” 

Cas opens his eyes just to roll them at Dean, which is something he does now, exasperated teasing. “God should strike you down for implying you’re somehow chaste.” 

“You were pretty out of it,” Dean says, giving him a crooked smile. “You said I smell good and — uh, you may have noticed by now that I’m beta.” Cas just stares at him, doing the squint again. “So it’s not like I have a lot of scent to be getting all alpha about?” 

“You have a scent.” 

“Oh.” 

“I do like it.”

“Oh. Thanks. Yours is — good, too.” 

The alarm goes off on Cas’s phone and he turns away to silence it. 

“Shower’s mine,” Dean says. 

He makes the water extra cold and applies extra blocking cream where Cas was marking and, miraculously, fakes his way through conversation all morning while unable to think about anything but Cas’s breath on his neck, hand tucked under his shirt. 

 

“I’m sorry about this morning,” Cas says as soon as they’re alone in their room for the night. “They’re bringing the rollaway for me.” 

“Dude,” Dean says. “It’s not a big deal. Shit happens.” 

“I wanted to prove to you that I could be,” Cas’s mouth twists, “professional. Since I know you know…” 

Dean raises his eyebrows, waiting. 

“My feelings for you.” 

“Your  _ what?”  _

Cas takes a careful breath through his mouth. The whole room smells like them — mostly Cas, but Dean, too — after a few days with just them in it. “I’m sorry.” 

“But you hate me,” Dean says, incredulous. “I heard you telling Meg.” 

Cas frowns. Opens his mouth, then closes it again. “I can assure you that you didn’t. I thought —” Cas fumbling for words is disconcerting. Even on the nights full of alcohol, Cas is always in control of his words. “I thought — I must’ve misunderstood, that my interest made you uncomfortable.” 

“Did you know I was a beta?” 

“Of course.” 

Dean steps closer, enough that he can reach and touch Cas’s hand. “Can I do something real unprofessional?” 

Cas nods, so Dean shuffles closer. He hooks his finger around one of Cas’s, tugs, leans even closer. Presses a soft kiss to Cas’s plush lips. Stays just a breath away until Cas takes the second kiss, his hand raising to brush his fingertips down the side of Dean’s neck. 

Cas kisses slow and intense, and this close, Dean can smell him through the blockers, a scent that’s darkening the longer they kiss. Cas slides his hand around to the back of Dean’s neck and the casual  _ alpha  _ of it has Dean desperate for more. 

“I’m gonna do something else unprofessional,” Dean says, crowding Cas backwards towards the bed, pushing him back onto it with a hand on the center of his chest. 

Cas’s eyes widen when Dean straddles across his thighs, leaning down to kiss again. “Wait,” Cas says against his mouth, and Dean backs off, stumbling off the bed. 

“Shit, I’m sorry —” 

“Can you wash off the blockers?” 

“Oh,” Dean says, surprised. “Yeah, sure.” 

“I just really need —” Cas’s fingers twitch in the comforter. “Please.” 

Dean reaches to grab Cas’s hand and pull him standing again. “You too, alpha.” 

Cas growls — Jesus Christ, if Dean were an omega, he’d be making a mess of himself right about now — and chases Dean into the bathroom, pressing up against his back and nipping at the side of his neck before Dean can even get the sink started. 

Dean melts back into him, watching Cas’s arms wrap around him in the mirror, hand sliding up underneath his shirt. Cas looks good with his cheeks flushed and hair a mess from Dean’s hands. 

“We’re not fucking in this bathroom when there’s an awesome bed available,” Dean says, elbowing Cas backwards and pumping scentless soap onto a washcloth. 

Dean rubs down his neck, unbuttons his shirt to clean his armpits, splashes water on his face for good measure, then soaps up a fresh cloth for Cas. “Have you been with a beta before?” he asks, watching Cas scrub at his neck. 

Cas squints at him. “You being beta is not a concern for me.” 

“Yeah, but —” 

“But,” Cas says, pulling Dean to him by the belt loops for a long, thorough kiss, the kind where Dean has forgotten the conversation by the time it ends. “But nothing. I’m very,” Cas nuzzles into Dean’s neck, breathing deep where his scent is strongest, “very, very attracted to you.” 

“Ok,” Dean says, baring his throat without even thinking about it. A soft growl — more like a purr — rumbles in Cas’s chest. “That’s good. I’m, you know.” Dean’s nose is pretty good for a beta, but this must be what it feels like to be an alpha or omega all the time, how strong and heady Cas’s unhidden scent is. It’s a shot of whiskey straight into the bloodstream. “Pretty attracted to you, too.” 

Cas takes a step back, though his hands don’t leave Dean’s hips. “There’s a bed.” 

“Yup,” Dean says. “Sounds about right.” 

“I would like to do something very unprofessional by taking you to it and riding your cock.” 

If Cas’s scent is whiskey, then those words dropping out of his mouth are opiates. Dean pushes Cas and, again, guides him backwards towards the bed amongs increasingly frantic kisses, hands fumbling with clothes until Dean can press closer to Cas, skin to skin. Dean’s breath catches when Cas wraps a hand around his cock and strokes loosely a couple times before stepping back and gesturing to the bed. “After you.” 

“Uh,” Dean says. “It’s not that I was going to — I wasn’t — but I have some condoms and lube in my bag.” 

Cas snorts and crawls into bed while Dean digs into the bottom of his duffel. “Hey,” Dean says sternly as he climbs in after Cas. “Aren’t you glad I was prepared?” 

“Yes, I find your resilience admirable in the face of market dis—” 

Dean pulls back from leaning into a kiss. “If you use any buzz words, phrases, or really anything we’ve had to listen to all week, in bed, I will call security and have you removed. With or without pants.” 

Cas laughs and laughs, and it’s a beautiful image, this gorgeous alpha nude against white sheets, joyful and touching Dean. “I promise,” Cas says. “There have been no icebreakers that included what I want to do to you.” 

“What if I do it to you first?” Dean says, skipping Cas’s mouth and going for his neck instead, nudging his jaw up so Dean can rub his cheek over Cas’s skin until he can smell himself there. He can hear Cas’s heart pounding, too, faster when Dean bites gently. It’s an exploratory bite — Dean should know better after getting smacked out of bed by an alpha when he was a kid, but Cas makes a little, low noise, so Dean bites harder. 

“Jesus,” Dean murmurs, wrapping his hand around Cas’s cock and squeezing where his knot is starting to form. Cas makes another noise, higher-pitched this time, fingers gripping too tight on Dean’s bicep. 

Cas jerks Dean into a kiss and he’s lost there for awhile, the heat of Cas’s mouth and urgency in his touch, but eventually he starts fumbling for the lube again. He manages to get some on his fingers blindly, though there’s most likely a puddle of it on the comforter, and Cas’s thighs part for Dean’s touch without being prompted

“This is terrible,” Cas murmurs, and Dean stops his slow circling of Cas’s hole with wet fingertips, “because there’s so much I want to do to you.” 

“It’s not like there’s a time limit. Unless — what happens in Vegas…?” 

“I hope not,” Cas says. “I don’t want this to stay in Vegas.” 

“Then we got time to do all that stuff,” Dean says with a grin, sliding a finger into him, slow and steady. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m feeling a little impatient,” Cas says, and shoves Dean onto his back, straddling him before he can even catch up to what’s happening. 

Dean never imagined it would be hot to watch someone tear open a condom with his teeth, but he likes the flash of Cas’s sharp canines and purse of his lips. He likes it more when Cas rolls the condom down his aching cock and slicks him up with lube. 

“Holy fuck, Cas,” Dean says, staring as Cas starts to sink down on him, taking him deeper with shallow rolls of his hips. 

Cas bends to kiss Dean, precome smearing between them, nipping at Dean’s bottom lip and then along his jaw. “No tooth marks,” Dean warns, and Cas backs off with the teeth, just huffing harsh breaths into Dean’s neck. 

“I like the way you smell,” Cas gasps. “I like the way you  _ feel.”  _

“Yeah,” Dean agrees, though he has no idea what he’s agreeing to. He’s had a lot of sex before, but he’s not sure it’s ever been quite like this. An alpha has never told him he smells good. 

Dean squeezes Cas’s hip with one hand and manages to get enough lube on his hand to stroke Cas’s cock, paying special attention to his swelling knot until Cas is barely rocking his hips and panting like he can’t get enough of Dean. 

“Yeah, baby,” Dean says against his ear. “C’mon, alpha. Mark me up.” 

Cas goes tighter around him when he comes, and Dean can feel the flex of his hip under his hand just before even Cas’s knot tightens and hardens. He makes a mess between them and Dean’s orgasm comes out of nowhere, making his hips arch up into Cas.

Cas doesn’t move except to stroke Dean’s hair and nuzzle his throat until he doesn’t have a choice but to climb off Dean with a wince. Dean has had omegas that didn’t know how to get off without a knot, but this doesn’t feel like that. This feels like savoring, and still does after Cas pulls off the condom and then tugs Dean into a long kiss. His knot is still hard and throbbing in Dean’s hand and he shudders when Dean squeezes. 

Cas makes this little purring growl as they kiss soft and slow. Dean’s dizzy on him, wants his tooth marks all over, finds it difficult to hold his tongue. 

Cas shivers a final time as his cock finally starts to soften. “You gonna knot me next time?” Dean says with a smile, then realizes how presumptuous he’s being. “If you wanted. Which you probably don’t.” 

“Of course,” Cas says, and then, “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

Dean grins. Cas grins back, and then they go quiet with eyes half-mast, tucked close and touching idly. Dean might even be dozing when a thought nudges at him.  “Wait a second,” he says. “You knew I was beta. Before this week.” 

Cas is suddenly wide awake and not looking at Dean, and Dean realizes he’d been hoping Dean wouldn’t notice that detail. 

“But I’m beta,” Dean repeats. 

“Yes, I’ve heard.” 

“We don’t have a — you know.” Dean can’t say the word  _ mate.  _ He spent his whole life thinking that’s not something he would want even if the possibility existed. “You never could’ve known through the blockers. That’s the whole point.” 

Cas’s nose twitches like a response to an unpleasant memory. “That’s how I knew you were my mate, I suppose. I’m not very good with scent language so I was surprised to recognize yours. And I — didn’t understand the way you smelled when we stopped being friends. Sad instead of angry.” 

Dean suddenly remembers scenting Cas over the smoke and sweat and beer and smells of hundreds of people all around in the casino. “You didn’t tell me.” 

Cas looks away again. His hand is still cupping Dean’s side but he’s not circling his fingertips anymore. “You weren’t interested.” 

“I was interested, you dope,” Dean says, flicking Cas in the ear. “Destiny and all that.” 

“I don’t want destiny. I want your legitimate interest.” 

“You’ve got it,” Dean says. “Considering I didn’t know you were my fucking  _ true mate  _ until just now.” 

Cas laughs, and Dean hopes he never stops loving Cas’s smile. “Touche.” 

“Shower and room service?” 

Cas agrees, and while they’re sharing a couple pieces of pie, Dean thinks he’s going to be a little sad to leave this  _ what happens in Vegas  _ bubble and return to the real world where there’s not anyone to bring him pie any time, night or day. But he’s not worried about him and Cas, especially not after Cas falls asleep holding Dean, hand possessive over his heart. 

One-handed, Dean manages to text Charlie. 

**Dean:** 😏 

**Author's Note:**

> [reallyelegantsharkfish](http://reallyelegantsharkfish.tumblr.com) on tumblr


End file.
